


Watch Over You

by ItsClydeBitches



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Gen, Halloween, Jupiter Ascending Fic Challenge, Recurrence, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:17:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5098844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Halloween night, a young cashier encounters a distinctly odd group of trick-or-treaters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch Over You

October 31st 2032 9:59pm

 

The cashier took another peak at the clock. He sighed, swept his gaze across the store, and sighed again. He fiddled with the broken remote even though he knew it wouldn’t do any good. The ancient TV mounted above the drinks section had been stuck on channel 53 for far longer than he’d been working there—which was all of two weeks. It was playing _Hocus Pocus_ on repeat. Who even watched that anymore?

 

The rest of the store was dead silent. It was Halloween night and everyone with half a brain was out collecting free candy from their neighbors, not buying the inflated stuff out of a run-down convenience store. He was fifteen, managing his first job, already despising the time spent on his feet and the grimy uniform he was forced to wear. There was no one to distract him from the flickering florescent lights (too much like a horror movie). There was nothing to do but stand and think.

 

The bell above the door jangled.

 

“Can I help you?” he asked automatically, blinking out of his dazed state. It took the cashier a moment to actually _see_ the customers and by the time he did they were already dispersed across the aisles. The incoming blast of cold air made him shiver (it was the air, certainly the air) and a series of dead leaves skittered loudly across the floor. He swallowed.

 

“We’re fine,” a man said and the cashier’s eyes blew wide at his costume. A skin-tight suit with silver engravings stretched over his towering form, but it was the wings that drew the eye. They were black with flecks of brown, twice his length and fluttering so realistically that the cashier took an instinctual step back. The man’s boots rocked against the linoleum, periodically lighting up blue along the edges, like those old children’s sneakers he’d sometimes seen on TV. There was nothing childish about him though. Nothing at all.

 

When he turned the cashier sucked in another breath. “W-what are you supposed to be then?” he whispered.

 

The man cocked his head, narrowed his eyes and stormed away. The cashier saw him snatch up two cartons of milk as he passed.

 

Following the motion of his arm, he spotted another man in the next aisle—same build, blonde hair, a pair of wings even larger than the first. The moment the cashier’s eyes landed on the odd brand along his neck (was that _real?_ ) the man’s gaze snapped up in a glare, his arm wrapping protectively around a blonde woman at his side. She popped a piece of pink bubblegum, the only other color on her person. Her black tunic was stitched with runes the cashier didn’t recognize and frankly didn’t care to.

 

As one the man and the woman pulled bowls of instant ramen into their arms. It should have been comical.

 

It wasn’t.

 

Behind them, tucked into the very back of the store, another man stood with makeup so striking that the cashier outright gasped this time, thinking for a moment that he was really looking at a rat. Or a hybrid. Or _something_. The guy sneered at him, passing by the black woman dressed as a robot. The fake implants scattered around her face were amazing, all of them blinking erratically, though the woman’s expression remained quite still. She snatched up a bottle of root beer. The rat-man grabbed three browning apples out of the nearby basket. They both moved towards the front.

 

The only one in the group not wearing a costume was the last woman, the oldest of the bunch. She appeared to be in her late thirties, perhaps even pushing forty, though she was strikingly beautiful for all that. Budding wrinkles weren’t enough to distract from the fire in her eyes. She walked with the confidence of one used to issuing commands and the other five filed in behind her, willingly. They reached the counter as one.

 

“It’s on me,” she said, pointing to the array of foods. The woman dumped three bags of Snickers on top of the apples, then reached over and tossed in a Reese’s for good measure, her eyes never leaving his face. The cashier got the distinct impression that they’d chosen these items at random; that they weren’t here for the food.

 

He rang up the milk first, then the root beer, then the apples… his hands were shaking slightly by the time he got to the ramen, unnerved by the fluttering of wings and whirring of machinery—the chit-chit-chittering noise the rat-man made under his breath. The cashier had the sudden, ridiculous notion that none of them were actually wearing costumes. It startled a laugh out of him.

 

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Something funny?” she asked.

 

“No… no just… your costumes are… are great.”

 

“Mmm,” she agreed. “That’s Caine,” she pointed to the man with the wings and the glower. “And Stinger,” (the other bearing that description).  “Kiza, Chicanery, and T’sing. I’m Jupiter.”

 

 _Jupiter._ The name rocked through the cashier.

 

“Oh,” he murmured. It was all he could think to say. 

 

“You’re… what? Fifteen?” Jupiter tossed another random selection of candy at him when he’d finished bagging. The cashier scrambled to keep up. “This is your first job.”

 

“Y-yeah.” It hadn’t sounded like a question.

 

“Keep at it then. Stay out of trouble, especially on a night like Halloween. Lots of scary things out there. Monsters.”

 

The cashier slowed to a stop, pressing his shaking hands against the counter. He wondered if he should hit the panic button, make for his cell and dial the police… but something held him back. Jupiter leaned forward as her entourage closed in, none of them blinking.

 

“You know how to spot a monster? Hm?” She didn’t let him answer, just curled one finger out—causing him to flinch—and snagged the bag filled with groceries. She replaced it with a wad of cash, crisp and clean.

 

“You can’t,” she announced. “Monsters look just like me… and _you_.”

 

The cashier sucked in deep breaths, unaware that they were already across the store, nearly out the door, moving further and further away from him even though these strangers felt so _close_.

 

“Happy Halloween, Balem.”

 

Balem heaved as cheesy movie lines sang in his ears, as the bell jangled once more.

 

He felt like he’d just seen a ghost.

 

 _Ghosts_.

 

It took another ten minutes for it to sink in. Not anything resembling recognition. Just…

 

He’d never told Jupiter his name.


End file.
